


I'll Be Out There Somewhere

by useyourtelescope



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Light Angst, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28778790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourtelescope/pseuds/useyourtelescope
Summary: When the unexpected demise of King Jacob leaves the kingdom of Arkadia vulnerable, Princess Clarke is willing to do whatever she must to protect her people—even when that means a swift marriage to Prince Bellamy, a man she barely knows.Busy as she is with trying to prepare to rule the kingdom far sooner than she had anticipated, Clarke has no interest in getting to know the prince, especially when it becomes clear he finds it amusing to spend his leisure time irritating her. However, when she finds herself overwhelmed by the daunting task ahead of her, Clarke finds an unlikely supporter in her new husband.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 32
Kudos: 148
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of T100 Writers for BLM, an initiative where you can make a donation in support of Black Lives Matter and prompt a writer or content creator to receive fic/art in return. See the [carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/) for more details. 
> 
> Thank you to [newbellarkefan](https://newbellarkefan.tumblr.com/) who prompted me to write a historical arranged marriage prince & princess AU. I really hope you like it! 💕
> 
> And also thank yous to [carrievew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieevew/pseuds/carrieevew) who created a lovely moodboard for this, and to [sparklyfairymira](https://sparklyfairymira.tumblr.com/) for reading this chapter over.

“Bad day, my love?” 

Prince Bellamy had spoken as two noble ladies walked past them in the hallway and his words made them giggle, obviously enchanted by the idea of the newlywed prince whispering sweet nothings to his wife.

However, his wife, Princess Clarke of Arkadia, was far from moved. While those ladies heard an endearment, she heard what he had truly intended—a taunt. 

She kept a pleasant smile on her face, not wanting to show her ire until the ladies had left the hallway, but her eyes narrowed at her husband and his responding smirk—no doubt considered charming by others—only proved he not only knew just how much he aggravated her but delighted in it.

He had found Clarke on her return to her quarters after storming out of the latest council meeting, something that had become their pattern of late. In their short time as husband and wife, they barely saw each other outside of mealtimes or the occasional important function, but he always managed to orchestrate running into Clarke after the daily council meetings, such that she could no longer distinguish whether her foul mood afterwards was a result of the frustrating meetings or her husband’s insistence on riling her. 

She studied him harshly as she heard the ladies’ footsteps echo down the hall. Prince Bellamy had certainly grown more comfortable with his new home than he had previously led her to believe if the casual way he leant against the stone wall was any indication. To add to this unprincely behaviour, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone; this was something Clarke was certain would have made many a court lady swoon, given the many envious comments she had overheard when they had first seen her husband, but it only made Clarke roll her eyes. 

Once she was assured no one would overhear them she said frankly, “You do realise that tonight we are hosting the dignitary from Polis for dinner, don’t you? I hope you plan to smarten up before then.”

Prince Bellamy’s smirk only grew, the gleam of his teeth grating on her. “My, it really was a bad day. The council ignored you again, Princess?” he said jovially.

Clarke was tempted to grit her teeth at him, but that was something that princesses were taught not to do at a very young age—especially princesses who were going to become Queen one day. 

Part of the reason her new husband’s taunts grated on her so was that he was often uncomfortably close to the mark. In the months since she had started attending the council meetings, she had struggled to be taken seriously by its many advisors, and it meant she inevitably emerged from them in a foul mood. Though she didn't know how the prince would know that given he had never been invited to the meetings.

She had thought the grave look on her face would have been warning for even the stupidest man to give her a wide berth—and whatever other flaws Clarke saw in her new husband (and they were numerous) Prince Bellamy was far from stupid—and yet he seemed to take delight in prodding her.

She schooled her countenance into the politely placid one she presented to visiting dignitaries. “Was the knights training not up to your standard today, my lord?” she asked.

His eyebrows furrowed at her apparent change in subject. “They are acquitting themselves very well.”

“And I believe you are a regular visitor to the library—have you grown tired of the selection already?”

“On the contrary.”

“Then I fear something else must be amiss—for surely if you were suitably entertained in Arkadia you would not need to find your sport in tormenting me.”

His responding laugh had a dark edge to it. “What a  _ torment _ , to be spoken to, Princess—no wonder so few will dare.”

Clarke let out a huff but regretted it a second later. She did not want him to know that he had succeeded in irritating her. “I will speak to you when you show you are capable of having a civil conversation,” she said bluntly, before turning on her heel and walking away from her. 

She was halfway down the hall when he called out to her retreating back, “You know, it is no wonder the council does not take your advice—they will not see a Queen if you act like a child.” 

The pace of her steps faltered, but she stopped herself from turning to yell at him and instead picked up her pace as she continued on to her chambers. She would not give him the satisfaction of acting like a child when he called her such, she thought resolutely. 

  
  


Needless to say, theirs was not a love match. 

At the end of winter, the beloved King Jacob of Arkadia had passed away. For a king who had been notable for managing to steer his kingdom away from the battles that had sometimes raged between their neighbours, it had been perhaps characteristic if not befitting of his majesty that he died rather undramatically after catching a chill that no one had realised had taken hold until it was too late. 

Being his only heir, Princess Clarke had long been aware that one day her father would die and she would inherit his throne, but she thought she had at least another ten or twenty years before it became a reality. Her father had been almost forty years old when he had inherited the throne from her grandfather, but at twenty Clarke had to not only grieve her dear father’s death but also prepare to lead a kingdom.

However, preparations were all she could do initially. The laws that governed Arkadia dictated that she did not formally come of age until she was twenty-one, and therefore for the nine months until her birthday, the kingdom was to be led by her mother. 

The new Queen Regent, Abigail Griffin, had been a key member of King Jacob’s council, so his other advisors had no objections to this, but the people of Arkadia were less happy with this arrangement. The Queen Regent had never sought to endear herself to her people, and though her presence certainly commanded respect there was much uncertainty about the future. Princess Clarke too, though generally liked, was too young for them to place much confidence in her. 

This uncertainty did not go unnoticed Arkadia’s neighbours and soon gave rise to new concerns. When Clarke had been young she had heard stories of the war that had raged between the kingdoms of Arkadia, Azgeda and Boudalan, but these had been almost like fairy stories to her—the hero and heroine her great-grandparents, neither of whom had been alive when she was born. Although the kingdoms could not have been said to be friends within her lifetime, they had known a peaceful coexistence—one that now was under threat, as there were rumours of possible attacks on Arkadia from both sides at the first sign of vulnerability. 

In its new, more precarious position, Arkadia would need to strengthen its allyships, and the council had determined the best of these to be with Tondisi. King Marcus of Tondisi had known both King Jacob and Lead Advisor Thelonious since the three had been boys, and whenever the leaders gathered in the last three years since there had been peace between all thirteen kingdoms, Tondisi regularly sided with Arkadia on decisions. Her father had been sharing information with her more these last few years, and so Clarke knew Tondisi and Arkadia also had other deals, such as regularly sharing resources during times of drought.

Now, however, the council believed they required something stronger than an old friendship to ward off threats. To truly solidify the alliance they needed a marriage. 

Prince Bellamy was officially the nephew of King Marcus, though they were not related by blood. Bellamy’s widowed mother had married King Marcus’ brother when he was only three years of age and many had decried the King’s decision to give the boy a princely title, but King Marcus was very fond of him and was not inclined to listen to others when he had already made up his mind on something. As King Marcus’ late wife had not produced an heir, there had been concerns that the king might decide to leave the kingdom to the honorary prince, but these had been allayed when Princess Octavia was born. Still, King Marcus had never treated them differently, even though Princess Octavia would be the one to inherit the throne. 

Clarke’s mother, the Queen Regent, had not been thrilled with the notion of her daughter marrying a man who had been given the title of prince and not born into it, but the other councillors argued one point that in their opinion held far more weight than the circumstances surrounding Prince Bellamy’s birth: his military experience. 

Unlike Arkadia, which had known peace some thirty years or more, Tondisi had been involved in protracted battles with Azgeda, which had only ended three years ago, and it had been under Prince Bellamy’s leadership on the field that they had emerged victorious, despite having only been twenty-three when the final battle was over. A union between them would be more than a mere symbol of the bond between the two kingdoms, it would give Arkadia a leader with military experience should the worst come to pass.

Clarke had no objections when the proposal was laid before her. She had long known her eventual marriage would be for political purposes and though it annoyed her that she would have to worry about a wedding when she wanted to focus on preparing to become Queen, she understood why time was of the essence. 

As the planned day for her to meet Prince Bellamy drew near she only hoped that he would be a man she could esteem and perhaps find passably attractive. That he had the approval of King Marcus, a man her father had greatly respected, suggested positively to the former, and when she finally laid eyes on the prince she did not think the latter would be an issue.

He cut a handsome, if somewhat imposing, figure as he entered the Great Hall where Clarke had been waiting for him. She would have felt more comfortable had their first meeting been in a less grand setting, but convincing her mother and the council to agree to an initial private meeting between them had been hard enough, so she had acquiesced to their insistence that Arkadia make a grand impression on the prince.

However, the prince did not appear particularly impressed by his surroundings, his striking face tinged by a decidedly sour look as his eyes roamed the hall, making Clarke wish she had stuck to her initial suggestion. It was too late for such regrets though, so she merely bowed and said evenly, “Welcome to Arkadia, Prince Bellamy. We are honoured by your visit.”

His eyes, which had swept over the entire room, only now seemed to settle on Clarke herself. She could not determine what she saw in his eyes before he returned her bow with a rather curt one of his own, saying merely, “Princess.” His voice was sharp, making it sound like an insult rather than the correct form of address. It was only after he rose that he seemed to remember himself. Perhaps his eyes caught on the attendants behind her or the guards still opening the doors behind him; whatever the reason, he continued more politely, “Thank you for the invitation.”

She suggested they take a seat and two attendants followed the pair to the high backed chairs of the central table, pulling them out for the prince and princess. They both moved to stand in front of their respective chairs opposite each other, but she noted the prince waited for her to start bending before doing the same, which amused her slightly. Clarke had witnessed the occasional suspicious visiting dignitary wait for her parents to start to eat before biting into their own food at a banquet, but this suggested something other than paranoia—and she did not think it was respect. 

She dismissed the others and Prince Bellamy responded lightly to her polite enquiries about his family and the current state of affairs in Tondisi while her maid and the other attendants took their time to clear the hall. However, the moment the guards had closed the large doors behind them she noticed his manner alter.

He looked at her directly with sharp eyes and said, “Let’s cut to the chase, Princess.” 

Clarke blinked at his bluntness. Even though the meeting between them was more of a formality—Arkadia not having any other option and the prince’s undistinguished lineage making her a far superior marriage prospect than he could have likely hoped for—she would have liked to have seen how well they got on when discussing general subjects before discussing the betrothal. However, she kept her face void of emotion and only said, “Must we?” 

The upwards curl of his lips was amused, but also somewhat bitter. He did not appear handsome to her eyes any longer, only severe. “I don’t see any value in prolonging the inevitable. Perhaps indecision is a common trait in your kingdom.”

Clarke’s nostrils flared and she stared at him between narrowed eyes, but her voice remained calm. “Very well. Based on the correspondence between our advisors, I understand that you have seen the details of our proposal. We believe our marriage would be very advantageous for the future safety of the kingdoms.”

Prince Bellamy nodded slowly, but in a manner that suggested he was judging her rather than agreeing with her. “Advantageous for your kingdom, certainly,” he remarked. “A shame no one in Arkadia thought so when it would have been advantageous for  _ my  _ kingdom.”

The animosity laced through his words did not surprise her so much as the implication. Clarke had never been aware that any marriage proposal had been floated between the two kingdoms before and her limited political knowledge meant she was unaware for what reason Tondisi might have wished for a match.

It seemed that she was not able to school her surprise, as Bellamy’s head tilted to study her again. “I see you have been kept in the dark, Princess. I did not think the council would keep such information from their future Queen. I hope it is not a sign of their lack of confidence in you.” He spoke in such a lazy drawl that it stung Clarke all the more; this had been her greatest concern since realising how soon she was to become queen and that a man she had known only minutes should find reason to believe it worried her greatly.

But a Princess raised to be Queen had many tactics in her arsenal and if politeness would not work on Prince Bellamy, she had no concerns over taking a different approach. “And I hope you do not think that such comments will sway me into changing the contract that has already been written and vetted by both our kingdoms,” she said, gesturing to the marriage contract on the table before her, that was only missing both their signatures. “The terms are very generous to your kingdom and require very little effort on your part.” Although they had believed the King and Princess of Tondisi would recommend the match, the Arkadian council had proposed an official annual provision of numerous resources to Tondisi while Prince Bellamy was resident in Arkadia, to sweeten the deal.

His smirk was dispirited. “Very little indeed. Only that I move to a new kingdom, far from everyone I know to be married to a—” He stopped himself at this, which Clarke was a little disappointed about. She rather fancied he had intended to say something far more biting than, “a disagreeable Princess,” which he eventually settled on.

She graced him with a slight smile in return. “I can be very agreeable Prince Bellamy if you can be agreeable in return.”

“And if I cannot?” he asked, unexpectedly jovial. 

“Then we need not spend much time together.”

He laughed rather heartily at that. “Is that all?”

Clarke refrained from replying with an undignified shrug. “It is the only choice we both have to safeguard our kingdoms.”

He looked away, a strange fleeting smirk on his face.

“What? You disagree?” Clarke asked.

Unlike Clarke, Prince Bellamy showed no qualms in betraying a shrug. “Only choice. It’s an oxymoron.”

Clarke tilted her head in acknowledgement but did not understand where he was leading. “Do you have an alternative solution then?”

However, as she had suspected, the prince did not. He was not ecstatic about it—though she could not blame him for that as neither was she—but as they discussed the proposal she saw he cared enough about his kingdom that he would not back out of the arrangement. 

After the agreed-upon hour for their private meeting was up, her mother and advisors from both Arkadia and Tondisi joined them for a more formal discussion of the terms in the contract. By the time they sat down to dinner the terms had all been agreed and the marriage contract had been signed.

Although the formal ceremony to celebrate the marriage would not take place for another six weeks, from that moment they were officially married. 

Clarke had initially hoped that her relationship with her husband would prove better than suggested by their first infelicitous meeting, but these hopes were soon quashed. She wrote him a very gracious letter a few days after their meeting, telling him much about Arkadia so he might feel more at ease when he arrived, but not only did he take two weeks to respond, he did so with a very short note that though polite felt very cold, and did not suggest he had any interest in becoming better acquainted with his new bride. 

Given she was busy with preparations for the upcoming wedding, she decided his letter did not merit a response so their next exchange did not take place until the evening before the wedding when Prince Bellamy and his delegation from Tondisi arrived for the ceremony. He was very civil to her on this occasion—particularly in comparison to the frosty reception she received from his sister Princess Octavia—and his unexpectedly pleasant manner all through the day of the wedding gave Clarke more confidence in the success of their union. Admittedly, these were largely public encounters, with little time spent alone together, but given they had signed the marriage contract in front of others as well, she thought he had returned to Arkadia with a better, more compliant attitude.

When they retired to their chambers after the wedding, however, Clarke thought again. 

She had heard him moving inside his adjoining chamber as her handmaiden helped her change into her nightdress, but he had grown quiet after she had dismissed the girl. And yet, ten, fifteen minutes went by and he did not enter. 

Puzzled, Clarke stood from where she had perched on the foot of her bed and walked to their adjoining door. She knocked on it gently and turned the handle, frowning when she found it locked.

She knocked again, louder this time, and it was not long before he opened the door. Prince Bellamy had changed into a long nightshirt and his face held a weary expression, though given the long day of wedding celebrations this was unsurprising. 

“Princess?” he said, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“You left the door locked,” she informed him.

“I am aware.”

Clarke’s frown intensified. “We need to consummate the marriage.”

His expression perked up at her statement, eyebrows lifting as he leaned against the door. “Why?” he asked, plainly amused.

Clarke stared back in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“We have only married to strengthen our kingdoms,” he said easily. “I have no desire to force myself on you, Princess Clarke.”

“But…” she floundered. “But it’s not a valid marriage if it’s not consummated.”

He chuckled and scratched the side of his face. “Who will know besides us?”

This was a logic heretofore unconsidered by Clarke. “What about children?” she wondered. “We’re expected to provide them.”

Prince Bellamy looked at her skeptically. “Do you want to become pregnant before you’re queen?”

Clarke was forced to admit that she didn’t. “Well, no.”

“Then I suggest we have this conversation again sometime after your coronation and retire to our own beds for tonight. Personally, I am quite worn out from the festivities and could use some rest before I begin my official duties tomorrow as consort to the future queen.”

“Very well,” Clarke said, her nod somewhat distracted as she was still unsure of what to make of their interaction. “Just don’t forget to leave it unlocked in the morning so the servants don’t notice.”

He smirked and gave her a bow. “As you wish, Princess,” he said and then shut the door in her face.

  
  


Bellamy had never intended to make a habit out of finding his wife after the council meeting. Indeed, his planned schedule as a member of the Arkadian palace did not take him anywhere near the meeting room at the time the Queen Regent, Princess and councillors regularly gathered. He had mentioned to Lord Thelonious that he thought he might be of use in the meetings, for he had sat in on King Marcus’ council meetings for the last three years, but he had told him not to worry about that for now and to only concern himself with growing used to his new home and the duties that had been assigned to him.

However, much to Bellamy’s chagrin, those duties were very little. 

His main charge was to oversee the knights and their training, but as the last person to hold this duty had been the late King Jacob he had spent very little time discharging it, having so much else to do, and left it all to the Knight Commander to arrange. Bellamy found Knight Commander Miller to be a very capable man and though he treated Bellamy with all the deference he was due—certainly more so than some in the Tondisi palace had shown him—Sir Miller clearly had neither need nor want of Bellamy’s oversight. 

Bellamy could not blame him. He had felt stifled whenever someone had come to check on his unit when they had been on the battlefield during their year-long war with Azgeda, nobles thinking that they knew better how to handle his men than him just because they were older, even though some had never fought on the front lines themselves. Bellamy thought there could one day be a time when he could be of more assistance to these men who had never faced the kind of serious battles he had, but as his union to the Princess seemed to have warded off the supposed threats his frontline experience was not needed for the time being—and Bellamy did not think the first week of his residence at Arkadia was the time to raise any minor improvements, if he wanted the men on side.

Given his request to Lord Thelonious for more duties had fallen on deaf ears, Bellamy thought it only natural to approach his wife on the subject. He did not have to attend the council meetings—although he still thought this would be a beneficial way for him to learn more about the Arkadian kingdom—but surely there were other positions in the palace where he would be more useful than simply being a pain in Sir Miller’s side. 

He thought he would have an easier task of convincing her if he spoke to Princess Clarke alone, but this was not an easy thing to accomplish. They took all their meals together, but the Queen Regent and others were always in attendance and as he could tell the Queen Regent was not quite satisfied with her son-in-law he did not wish to raise the subject in front of her. The rest of their days were spent very differently so the easiest opportunity for private conversation had seemed to be at night, given their adjoining chambers, but the Princess had taken to ignoring him then as well. 

He couldn’t be certain, but she seemed to have taken his declining to consummate their marriage as a slight. Bellamy didn’t understand why: when there was no connection between them it had seemed perfectly sensible to him not to run the risk of pregnancy before she was ready. He didn’t intend for their marriage to remain unconsummated forever, after all: he found his bride distant, and somewhat cold, but that didn’t negate her beauty. He would be happy to complete that duty when the time was right.

But after the wedding night, it had been she who had been the first to lock her adjoining door at night, and on the few occasions he had ventured to knock—purely to discuss his position within the court—she had not answered, even though he was sure he had heard her moving about mere seconds before.

She might not have known he wanted to discuss matters of the court rather than the bedchamber, but he didn’t see why she would need to feign sleep to avoid that. Given he had been the one to suggest they didn’t sleep together on the wedding night, surely she couldn’t think he would take offense if she now planned to reject him. The only thing he could assume was that his rejection had annoyed her—and this now meant he had to seek her elsewhere where she could not ignore him. 

That had led him to look for her after the council meeting; it was the one fixture on her schedule he knew did not fluctuate and since she would emerge from the meeting with a host of advisors behind her she could not run away from him without drawing attention, something he had noticed she did not like to do. That was how two weeks after their wedding Bellamy had found himself patiently waiting outside the chamber doors for the meeting to finish. The Queen Regent had been the first to leave, with Lord Thelonius by her side, their eyes passing over Bellamy curiously, but walking by without voicing a question. Princess Clarke was next and she stopped on sight of him, nodding when he quietly requested an audience with her.

She was hard to understand, his wife. Marcus had spoken highly of her, but he hadn’t seen her much since she was a child. In some ways, Princess Clarke was no different to other princesses he had met over the years, with her pasted-on smile and condescending regal air, but sometimes when they spoke he sensed something else beneath the surface—a certain fire that, despite her best efforts, he did not think could be contained. He wanted to know what would happen when it was unleashed.

The annoyance in her eyes had already been there as soon as she emerged from the chamber doors so he knew it was a result of the meeting, but he could tell his appearance had made it worse for all that she tried to seem accommodating to his request. 

He had planned to speak to her plainly, openly, but it was that annoyance that had convinced him to put on a smooth, lightly condescending tone and whisper into her ear, “What’s the matter? Did the council not follow the Princess’ wishes?”

Although she tried to hide it, he could tell she bristled. Princess Clarke was clearly a lady who kept herself in check—far from uncommon with those who were to inherit a throne, Bellamy had discovered in his meetings with royalty over the years—but ever since their first meeting Bellamy had thought there was something rather fun about riling this particular princess. 

She glanced over her shoulder, presumably to check if anyone had heard him, but most of the advisors had dispersed already, and none were close enough to hear the details of their conversation. She turned back to him, her eyes steely. “Is that a serious question or a jest Prince Bellamy? I should warn you I am in no mood for the latter.”

“Are you ever,” he remarked quickly. It had been a slip of the tongue, not intentionally meant for her ears, but he was not quiet enough to prevent that.

Anger flashed over her face, and though she hid the look within seconds, the emotion was plain in her voice when she said, “Prince Bellamy, I have a very busy schedule preparing to be the future  _ ruler  _ of this kingdom and I do not have time for your attempts at jokes. I hope you do not intend to seek me out for the sole purpose of irritating me.” 

Bellamy shook his head, annoyed at sudden the turn things had taken. “I only came to see you now because you avoid me the—”

“I avoid you?” she interrupted, incredulous. “You were the one who made it plain that we need only put on this show for others.”

They were alone in the corridor, but Bellamy knew getting angry now would not help matters. Still, it was with effort that did not show his irritation and said only, in as even a tone as he could muster, “Princess, I sought you out only to discuss my duties in Arkadia.” 

“Your duties are perfectly clear. In fact, until I take my place as queen they are very little.”

“That is precisely my point. I can do more than just idle my time away at the palace; I could be in those meetings with you, or—” 

“And if the worst comes to pass and we do find ourselves at war with Azgeda then you certainly will be called to the meetings for your experience on the battlefield will be needed.”

She spoke plainly, with no hint of insult, and yet this was all Bellamy heard. In Tondisi he had been seen by most in the palace as merely the illegitimate brother of the future Queen until he had become a war hero and for all his other concerns about moving to a new kingdom he knew little of, he had hoped he could reinvent both of those images. He knew he had more to offer than just his experience as a soldier, but no one was willing to even entertain the idea. 

Seeming not to notice how his face hardened at her words, Princess Clarke continued, “In the meantime when you are not advising the knights as assigned, I suggest you enjoy your leisure while you have it. I know I often liked to visit our townspeople, or when I could not leave the palace I spent much of my time in the library.”

“The library?” he repeated, gobsmacked “I come to you for responsibility and you tell me I should read?”

“You  _ can  _ read, can you not?” Her tone was clipped;  _ this  _ was certainly intended as an insult.

Bellamy’s jaw worked. Instead of dignifying her rudeness with an answer, he dipped an overly low bow. “I thank you, Princess, for gracing me with a few minutes out of your busy schedule.”

Her face twisted and he thought she was about to retort but then they heard the sound of approaching footsteps from a guard walking down towards their side of the corridor and her face cleared. “Good day, Prince Bellamy,” she said, dipping into a brief curtsey before continuing on her way.

“Princess. I look forward to our next encounter,” he added to her retreating back though she kept walking away from him.

He had not meant it as a promise, though that was what it had turned out to be.

For the following two weeks, he had found her without fail, always after the council meeting. At first, ostensibly because he was certain of her presence there, but as the days continued he didn’t change his approach because of his certainty of her foul mood.

He only learned some of what was discussed in the meetings, mainly though things that filtered back to Sir Miller with whom he had started to become friends now that the man wasn’t worried Bellamy was trying to take charge of him, but the common thread seemed to be that Princess Clarke was rarely pleased at the close of the discussions. That made it the perfect time to do what he had decided to focus his leisure ample time on: pestering her.

He was well aware that at the age of twenty-six he should have outgrown such childish behaviour, but given the irregular circumstances of Bellamy’s princely title he had never felt himself beholden to princely manners—especially not when it came to high-strung princesses who were far more fun when annoyed. Besides, Bellamy needed something to fill his time and Princess Clarke had refused to give him responsibility. 

To tell the truth, he had come to rather enjoy their regular bickering, especially the time she had practically growled at him before recalling it was not behaviour befitting a princess. That said, Bellamy had not realised just how much he enjoyed it until the day came that he had to miss the opportunity. 

He had gone to the knights training session as he always did, but instead of making his standard early departure, there was, for once, an occasion for him to be of assistance. The knights in training were learning some new skills, and many struggled with a particular attack. Bellamy found himself called in to assist the Knight Commander and his deputies in the demonstration and then discovered some of the knights in training had wanted to ask questions of him but had been too nervous to approach him before when he had merely been surveying them in the background. 

As much as Bellamy still wanted to be valued for more than his fighting expertise, he appreciated being valued at all by people in Arkadia, and so he had made no rush to leave training before they were finished, taking his time to assist the young recruits as well as he could. When he had realised the Princess would have long left the meeting, he initially felt a slight disappointment at missing their usual encounter, but this was more than made up for by the satisfaction he had received from being useful to the knights. 

Since he did not know where the Princess was headed after the meeting, he did not rush to go inside the castle and seek her out. Instead, he went for a walk in the town, and then on returning to the castle decided to visit the library.

Although the Princess’ barb had grated on him, he enjoyed reading too much to let her comments deter him from visiting. Arkadia had an excellent library with a wide-ranging selection and he had grown fond of it. It was usually quiet before dinner, and so that had become his favourite time to visit, which meant he was all the more surprised to find someone browsing the shelves in the area of the library he normally frequented—particularly when he realised who that someone was. 

“Princess?”

  
  


Clarke’s head snapped up sharply at the sound of that voice; she knew before she turned around that it was her husband staring at her. She had thought she would be free of his taunts today after he had failed to materialise outside the meeting room, but it seemed she would not be so lucky.

“What?” she said sharply. “Must you chase me to the library to deliver your insults?”

His confused look morphed into one of annoyance. “As much as it might pain you to hear it, the entirety of my day is not governed by your whereabouts. The library is one of the few places I am welcome in Arkadia.” After this speech he merely bowed and moved to the shelf on the right side of her, ignoring her stare as he searched through the books. 

Unlike his usual barbs, this one made her feel a little guilty. “You know you are free to go wherever you like in the kingdom, Prince Bellamy,” she replied softly. “You are welcome here.”

“You have certainly rolled out the welcoming committee to make that clear,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm even though his eyes remained on the books.

“I—” For a moment, Clarke felt fury rise within herself and she wanted to rail at him for all the ways he had made his arrival into Arkadia far harder than it needed to be. But then the moment passed and she felt herself sagging against the shelf in defeat. 

Prince Bellamy might be irritating, but it was not he that she was truly angry at. As the fight flew from her she sighed and closed her eyes. “I am sorry,” she said in a low voice. Clarke opened her eyes to find he had stopped moving and was staring at her with intense curiosity. 

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

The sudden sympathy in his voice rattled her more than his earlier taunts and Clarke turned back to look at the books, taking all the ones she had been debating between before he had arrived. “Nothing,” she said, her voice mostly steady. “Only I have not provided for you as I ought. I assure you I will make plans to rectify that tomorrow.” She bowed and then, without waiting for his response, took her books to the table she favoured at the other end of the library.

She had settled herself at the table and started pursuing one of her chosen volumes when Prince Bellamy appeared by her side, two books in his hands. She looked up, expecting him to say something, but he only picked up her selection one at a time, surveying each carefully. 

He clucked his tongue in thought before pointing to the last and saying, “Don’t bother with this one.” He then pushed it to the far side of the table and slid the rest closer to her. “These two are good though.”

“What would you know about it?” she snapped before she could stop herself. What was it with this man that pushed her buttons so; one minute she felt sorry for him, the next he was annoying her with his assured behaviour.

He didn’t rise to her comment this time though. “More than you, it appears,” he said easily, availing himself of a seat to the side of her. “I would have thought that the future Queen of Arkadia had been trained for rule since birth, I’m surprised you’re not already familiar with these texts.”

Clarke felt the colour rise to her cheeks at this observation. Although she had been taught the details of the history of Arkadia since she was young, she only had a broad understanding of the history of the other twelve kingdoms, something that was becoming all the more clear to her at the council meetings. History was far from the only place where her knowledge was lacking, but it had seemed the easiest place to start. 

“My father wanted me to enjoy my childhood and insisted they only start training me for the crown when I was sixteen,” she explained. Clarke did not say they had assumed she would have much more time to learn all she needed to know before she wore the crown. 

Prince Bellamy nodded. “Marcus had a similar thought with Octavia, though he started her training at the age of seven,” he said, but it did not seem like he intended this as an insult on her father’s methods, just a statement of fact. “Octavia did not have the patience for histories though,” he continued. “And she knew I liked them, so she said I could relate what was important to her.”

“Were you to be one of her advisors?” Clarke wondered. He had not spoken much of his life in Tondisi and his relationship with his sister. Though, she thought with a pang, she had not asked either. 

“It had been expected when we were younger, though we decided after the war that we might clash too much on the same council.” He paused before glancing to her and saying, “I could be an adviser to you though.”

“Our biggest concerns at the moment are crops and keeping the peace with Boudalan, I don’t think I need a soldier’s advice,” she said plainly, not understanding why the prince’s face twisted at first.

“Don’t you think a man who has been to war might want to prevent another more than anyone?”

It was the depth of feeling behind his statement that truly took her by surprise, as if the words had been wrought from somewhere deep within him, rendering Clarke speechless. 

Her lack of response clearly annoyed him though and he shook his head and pushed his chair back.

“Wait,” Clarke said, putting a hand on his arm. 

He met her gaze and didn’t rise, but he didn’t bring his chair in either, waiting to see what she said.

“Arkadia has not known war since before I was born, but I know we came close many times. We had a General on the council when I was young—Sydney, her name was. My father believed in having people with different ideas on the council, but I know he struggled with her more than anyone. In truth—” Clarke hesitated a moment, unsure whether to mention information that she had been sworn to keep secret, but then she chided herself. He was her husband now, and if Bellamy was really going to find his place as Prince Consort she could not keep treating him like he was Tondisian rather than Arkadian. 

“Arkadia may not have had external threats for a long time, but we did have threats to the crown from within our kingdom.”

Prince Bellamy’s eyebrows rose and he pulled his chair in, eyes fixed on her. “This General Sydney?”

Clarke nodded. “Her lust for fighting caused her to turn against him and Thelonious, even try to plot against them,” she said. “But it was not fair of me to assume that war would be all you care about. Besides, I suppose I don’t even know if that was the case for General Sydney. It all happened ten years ago, so I only know what I’ve been told and I’m sure that isn’t everything,” she added, thinking of the way the council and even her mother still tried to coddle her, even though it was only months to her coronation. 

But Bellamy didn’t seem to notice her more sullen ending to her speech, asking, “And what happened with General Sydney?”

Clarke gave him a wry smile. “Her treachery came back to bite her,” she said. “She had been experimenting, trying to create an explosive device in an abandoned house on the far side of town, but it backfired and killed both her and her second. The council did not want the truth to come out so they passed it off as structural damage bringing the building down.”

“And are you sure there is no remaining danger to yourself?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing. “In my experience, people like that can have a lot of followers; just because it was ten years ago—”

“It is something we discuss in the council meetings,” Clarke informed him. “The advisors don’t believe it is currently a significant concern.”

Prince Bellamy nodded. “I see. Just crops then, for internal problems?” he said, a pleasant lilt to his voice.

“Yes,” Clarke said, unexpectedly laughing. 

His face grew suddenly stern. “Crops may not be a significant concern within palace walls, but they are everything to the people in kingdoms like ours, it’s nothing to joke about.”

“Yes, yes of course,” she said, hurriedly. “I completely agree.” 

“Then why did you laugh?”

“Because I…” Clarke sighed. “It occurred to me that there could very well be other concerns that the council has decided to keep from me, for all I am the future Queen. If I am truly honest,” she said carefully, “your taunts—or whatever you like to call them—have rattled me mainly because I am afraid you are right. They do see me as a child. The youngest member of the council is almost twice my age and there are so few women. When I am annoyed or upset by their decisions, I feel like I cannot show it for fear they will judge me.”

“And then you leave the meetings to be met by me, mocking you,” he said, somewhat guiltily. 

“Well, yes. But it is not an excuse for me to take out my anger at them on you.”

“Nor is boredom a good excuse for me to taunt you,” he added, his expression softening. “But if you will let me, I am willing to make it up to you.”

“In what way?”

“You obviously seek to learn more about the kingdoms,” he said, gesturing to her books. “I have studied them extensively, so I can help you with that. And having sat in with the council in Tondisi even when I was your age, I could give you some advice on how to go about convincing the advisors to take you seriously.”

Clarke gave him a thin-lipped smile in response. She glanced out the window before studying him again. “If I ask you something, can you promise you will not take offense?”

He laughed. “That is not a promising start, but I will try.”

“You have no reason to be loyal to Arkadia. Why do you wish to help me?”

“This is my home now and you are my wife.” 

He had spoken plainly, without emotion so she did not feel she was being insensitive in replying, “I did not think either of those meant anything to you.”

She could tell he did not take offense, but he looked thoughtful for a while before responding, “The people of Arkadia might not have been my people for very long, but if I can make myself useful to them I wish to do so—and I would rather spend my years here making the kingdom better, not just living a life of idleness.”

Clarke nodded, pleased to find a sentiment so in tune with her own. She suspected he was still holding something back from her, but given how far they had come in one conversation compared to over a month since their wedding ceremony, she was glad for even this glimpse of him. “I understand.”

“Besides,” he added with a slight smirk, “I imagine there will be many benefits to having the ear of the future Queen and I fully intend to make use of that even if those councillors are too stupid to realise it.”

Clarke could not help but smile at this jest. However, after a moment, her smile faltered. “I am not ready,” she admitted, unsteady. It had been on her mind for weeks, but she had not said it out loud yet.

“No,” he agreed, but it was said with kindness. “But together we will ensure that you are.”

Clarke nodded, and her smile returned stronger than before. “Alright then. Let’s begin.”


	2. Chapter 2

In the weeks since they had reached their agreement, the Prince and Princess had spent part of each day reading together in the library. Sometimes this was only for an hour or so, given their other duties, but it was a marked change to their previous habit of avoiding each other for most of the day. This sudden turnabout could not pass unnoticed by the other residents of the palace, but neither had it seemed to be of much import. It was assumed by most that after a disinterested start the newly married couple had taken a liking to one another, and though some wondered at their choice of location—for surely there were far more romantic locations in the palace than the library, which had been somewhat neglected the last few years—there didn’t seem to be any harm in it either.

Bellamy often wondered what people would think if they knew that he and the Princess were not merely talking or reading together, but studying. 

Princess Clarke had been the one to insist they keep this aspect to their meetings a secret, and though he didn’t quite understand her reluctance to let the rest of the council know she was taking steps to further educate herself, he had agreed not to tell anyone. Bellamy had smirked and teased her when she had arrived at their first official study session with a stack of romance novels from her chambers to cover the more historical and philosophical selection they were going to peruse but hadn’t tried to change her mind. 

Over the course of their sessions, Bellamy had realised that the Princess was a diligent student who had clearly received an excellent, wide-ranging education from her tutors, but her knowledge of history was too focused on their ancient ancestors rather than the more recent incidents outside of Arkadia and how they had affected the current political relationships between the thirteen kingdoms. This would not be a significant failure for a general citizen, or even a historian looking to take up a specialist study, but for the future Queen, it could be detrimental. 

Her admittance that her father had planned to deliver some of her political education himself had left Bellamy with mixed feelings. Having watched his sister struggle with the many queenly tenets she had been taught from a young age, he could appreciate the late King’s Jacob reluctance to overwhelm Princess Clarke with the heavy responsibility of the crown too soon. However, the sad truth of the matter was that his circumspection had left her in an unenviable situation of having to hurriedly prepare herself for a coronation now only four months away.

Not that Bellamy ever ventured to suggest to his wife that her father was even slightly to blame for her current situation. Their burgeoning friendship was still new, and he wasn’t going to destroy their progress by criticising a father she so obviously loved; it was plain in the tone of her voice whenever she mentioned him, and it made Bellamy feel wistful. He couldn’t even remember his father, while his step-father had been somewhat distant—nice enough to the boy he had been forced to adopt, but far more concerned with his daughter, the heir to Tondisi. Marcus was truly the closest thing Bellamy had to a father figure, but being the king he had too many responsibilities to spend much time fathering a boy that wasn’t even his. As Bellamy had grown older, Marcus had shown his high regard for Bellamy through the positions he had appointed him to, both in court and on the battlefield during the war, and though Bellamy had appreciated the intention behind his actions, it meant all his personal relationships, barring that with his late mother, had been tied up with duties and the good of the kingdom. King Jacob might not have fulfilled his duty by his kingdom, but no one could doubt his affection for his daughter; Bellamy thought there were worse legacies for a man to leave behind. 

How Clarke now lived up to his legacy as a king remained to be seen, and there was no denying she had a lot of work to do. Although Lord Thelonious had assured the Princess that he and the other councillors would assist her in her father’s place, Clarke felt they had been lacking in this department, and from what she had shared with Bellamy he couldn’t say he disagreed. It was understandable of course that in the first few months following the King’s death there had been too many immediate concerns to deal with for them to have given Clarke their full attention. But now that the threats from Azgeda and Boudalan had abated, they should have had more time to spend on preparing Clarke for her role—however, whenever Clarke raised this concern with Lord Thelonious, or even her mother, she had been informed that she shouldn’t worry herself for the council could take care of the difficult decisions while she took her time settling into her new role. 

Bellamy had been able to tell just what the Princess thought of that suggestion from the way her face had twisted on recounting it to him. He was surprised by how much he’d grown to respect her in such a short time. She was perhaps overly ambitious in what she thought she could teach herself before the coronation—whether that was with or without his help—but he admired her conviction to learn as much as she could. 

Sitting back and letting the council run things as they had been used to when she became Queen would have been very easy—he had met many a King and Queen who had done so—and all the more understandable given not only Clarke’s age but her enduring grief over the loss of her beloved father. But Princess Clarke had no intention of being merely a conduit for other people’s decisions and he respected her for it. 

That was not to say that all their study sessions had run smoothly. As Clarke had grown more comfortable with him, she had become more open with her thoughts about several matters at the palace, and he did not always agree with her. When she had given him more detail on her frustrations at not being allowed much of a voice at the council meetings, Bellamy had offered a counter perspective, suggesting that perhaps in the council member’s minds it was unlikely that such a green girl as herself would have much to offer to their discussions. He hadn’t realised he had needed to make it clear that  _ he  _ did not agree with such an opinion until Clarke had nearly stormed out of the library in a huff. 

It had taken her some time to agree to his suggestion that she try to take a step back and not insert herself so much into the discussions in the council meetings for now, but eventually, she had understood his reasoning. After all, he had once been the young new addition to council meetings back in Tondisi, and had met with very similar resistance to his ideas, though less tactfully demonstrated; no matter how much they denied her, the council members were always respectful to their future Queen, but no one in Tondisi had thought to show any deference to a prince without any noble blood. When Bellamy had reluctantly let himself fade into the background in the meetings and instead approached council members privately, posing his inquiries as an attempt to gain their help and advice rather than with certainty that he knew he was right, they had slowly started to take his opinions into account and eventually he became a more respected participant in the meetings. 

As much as she hadn’t liked to follow his advice, she had later admitted that it seemed to be working, particularly with some of the councillors she had not known so well before who she now felt were growing more at ease with her. They had even seemed impressed when she shared some of her ideas in a private setting rather than the critical looks she had been used to receiving in the meetings. This success, no matter how minor, only drove her desire to continue their lessons and since Bellamy still had no other formal duties than his work with the knights he was happy to accommodate the Princess as best he could. 

They tried to keep to a regular schedule with their study sessions, but Princess Clarke’s many duties meant there were inevitably some occasions that they had to alter their plans.

However, today was the first time that Bellamy was the late arrival to their usual spot in the library. Years of training had taught him not to run or even jog through a palace, but he kept his steps brisk even though he did not think the Princess would truly be angered by his lateness. 

Indeed, when he arrived the Princess only turned to look at him with a mischievous smile on her face. 

“Prince Bellamy,” she said, smirking. “Don’t you know it is bad manners to keep a Princess waiting?”

“May I remind you of your lack of apology when you kept me waiting far longer on Wednesday?” he said, taking his seat.

“That is different,” she replied. 

“And why do you suppose that?” he asked, smirking a little in response to her feigned prim expression.

She tilted her head as if she was truly considering it, before she said, “Because you are not the future Queen.” She had tried to utter these words with her most regal look, but could not help a smile from slipping through before she finished.

Bellamy laughed, a reaction which would have surprised him only a month ago. If she had said such a thing to him back then, even in jest, he likely would have found it irritating, but now he was only amused—and perhaps a little gratified. The more he had seen of life in the palace, the more he felt that Clarke was not only lacking in advisors but friends. 

She had mentioned her friend Wells, the son of Lord Thelonious who had been on a diplomatic mission in the kingdom of Polis for the last year, but never others in the manner of a close friend. Not that Bellamy had many true confidantes either, but he had never found it difficult to strike up friendships. He had only been in Arkadia for a few months and already counted Knight Commander Miller and the Court Jester Jasper as friends. Through the latter, he had also met one of the palace gardener’s named Monty as well as Murphy who worked in the kitchens. He wouldn’t necessarily classify them as friends, considering how wary they had seemed about spending time with the Prince Consort to the future Queen, but he was already fond of them as well as Murphy’s girlfriend Emori who had no qualms about joking around with a royal.

Aside from this Wells Jaha, Bellamy did not know who Clarke was able to relax with, and it pleased him that they could share silly little jokes together.

“I will endeavour not to disappoint you so in future, Your Highness,” he said, bending over gallantly, though it hardly resembled a proper bow since he was seated. 

“See that you do,” she said gravely before breaking character fully and bestowing him with a wide grin.

That flash of teeth, coupled with the mirth in her eyes, sparked something within him—something that Bellamy was reluctant to put a name to. Becoming friends with his wife had been a pleasant side effect of their studies, and not one he had been certain of, but the friendlier they became the more obvious her attractions were, and Bellamy did not think that was a safe line of thinking.

They would have sex eventually, but it was easier when that could be compartmentalised as a duty to provide the kingdom with an heir. When he had signed the marriage contract, he had imagined that once they had fulfilled that duty, and perhaps had a second or even third child for safety, they could have gone their separate ways—still married of course, but no longer bound to share a bed. However, if they started having sex before they wanted to have children it could complicate their relationship. Bellamy had had sex just for fun plenty of times before, but he did not think it wise to do so with his wife, however ironic that was.

Still, not wanting to risk their new and fragile friendship, he pushed down the warning signs of attraction that he felt whenever he noticed the curve of his wife’s mouth or the shape of her curves beneath of her dresses, telling himself it was only because it had been a while since he had abstained for so long. These feelings would surely go away once they finally consummated the marriage after her coronation.

He cleared his throat to bring his mind back to their current order of business. “So, what have you been studying while I was delayed?”

“Well, I finished what I was reading about Boudalan. I moved on to this book—what is it?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

Bellamy shook his head quickly, even as his mind suddenly raced. As she had been speaking, her hands had been moving the books and papers in front of them. The time they spent studying together normally consisted of them discussing various matters and he had never glimpsed inside her notebook, which was currently open on the table. 

It was unsurprising that Clarke should look so confused that her notes would give him such a start. It was not the notes themselves, but the handwriting that had given rise to a particular memory and Bellamy found his throat had suddenly turned dry.

He cleared his throat and tried to meet her eyes with an even look, but she stared back in concern. “I—did you write me a letter after we first met?” he asked. “When I went back to Tondisi?”

Clarke’s brows furrowed. “Yes,” she replied, plainly not understanding the relevance.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking at the table somewhat abashed. “I did not realise it was from you.”

A strange sound left Clarke’s lips, and when he raised his head to look at her again amusement had crept onto her face, despite her lingering confusion. “Who did you think it was from?”

“One of your advisors.”

“Why should they write you a letter and sign it from me?” she asked without accusation, only curiosity.

“I have seen it done before,” he said. “A prince from Floukru who was trying to court my sister once sent her a love letter, but when they next met and she spoke to him of some of the lines from his letter, she realised he didn’t know what she meant. Eventually, she learned he had been too busy to write the letter himself, but thought it was a strong enough sign of his affection that he should get one of his busy advisors to write her a letter for him.”

Clarke let out a disdainful laugh, but this was directed at that prince so Bellamy did not take offence. “I take it your sister disagreed.”

Bellamy nodded. “Yes, we didn’t see him again after that visit.” They shared a bemused smile before Bellamy continued, “Of course, your letter was not a love letter, but—it was not personal. It seemed to tell me everything I might need to know about Arkadia, but nothing about yourself and I thought you must have asked an advisor to write me something to try to welcome me.”

“I take it that was what led to your very delayed, brief response?”

“Yes,” he admitted, somewhat shame-faced. “I’m sorry.”

When he met her eyes again, they had softened. “I understand. I confess I did consider writing you something personal, but I hadn’t known what to say.”

“I don’t blame you. I know I was very short with you in our first meeting, why would you have felt any desire to be open with me after my behaviour?”

She hesitated before she responded, “Speaking of our first meeting...there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh?”

Clarke bit her lip, which distracted Bellamy enough that he was more taken aback by her eventual words, “What was the older proposal you mentioned? I asked my mother and Lord Thelonious about it, but was told not to worry about it as it had all worked out in the end.”

“I should not have spoken about that,” he replied, his face colouring. “I knew you wouldn’t have been aware but—“

“Tell me.” Her voice was firm, though not commanding. 

Bellamy sighed, but eventually relented, “It was before the war—between Tondisi and Azgeda,” he added, since it had many names to others, even if to him it would always be  _ ‘the  _ war’. “Marcus wanted to strengthen the ties between Tondisi and Arkadia to protect us from the threats we were under from Azgeda—not unlike what your advisors thought when they made your proposal.” 

“But that would have been four years ago?” Clarke said, frowning.

“Yes,” Bellamy said. “Marcus wanted your parents to agree to a betrothal between us, with the intention of marrying once you were of age. I was against it—I told them I had no intention of signing a contract that said I would one day marry some sixteen-year-old girl—but I didn’t have enough weight to change their minds.”

“But my parents refused?” she guessed in a quiet voice.

Bellamy nodded. “I heard that your father said he didn’t want to promise you to anyone before you were eighteen, but your mother—well, I think her objection was more to me than anything else.”

Clarke’s cheeks coloured. “I’m sorry—“

“No,” he interrupted, for Clarke had nothing to apologise for on that score. “As I said, I didn't want to do it anyway, so I was glad when the delegation returned and said Arkadia had refused. But,” Bellamy hesitated, clearing his throat as he considered how to continue. As much as he had grown fond of Clarke, the war wasn’t something he could speak of easily, not even to his sister. “The records might say we won the war, but we lost a lot of good men. And the losses from Azgeda too, they—“ Bellamy sighed. “To receive the same proposal as had been offered to Arkadia only a few years later—to know I was an adequate choice to save the lives of Arkadians, but not Tondisians, well...I’m afraid I was determined to be in a foul mood the day we met.”

“I am not surprised,” Clarke said gently and surprised him by placing her hand over his and squeezing. Her hands were soft like a true Princess, and Bellamy had to resist the urge to turn his hand around to feel her palm against his. He appreciated the gesture though and returned her soft smile.

“I…” she began, “I can’t pretend that I am not glad my parents didn’t agree to a betrothal back then, but I am sorry for what you went through.”

“Thank you.” He thought they would return to their books after that, but Clarke instead continued to look at him with consideration. 

“Can I ask why you agreed to our proposal?” she asked, compassion and curiosity on her face. “If I had been you, I’m not sure I would have.”

He laughed a little. “I admit, my initial instinct was to refuse.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“The resources offered to Tondisi were more than generous. It seemed selfish to turn down an offer that would benefit the people so much just for my pride.”

Clarke nodded. “And was that the only reason?”

Bellamy considered her for a moment, and Clarke looked away at his hesitation.

“If you don’t wish to share with me, I understand -”

“No, it’s alright,” Bellamy said, surprised to find out it was true. Although this wasn’t an easy subject to talk about, he found he did want Clarke to know. “The war made me feel differently about my place in Tondisi. I had always been tolerated in the palace because of my relationship to Octavia, but I was not universally respected until I became a ‘war hero’.” He raised his hands to demonstrate the quotes in the air, but a moment later regretted it because it meant her hand was no longer on his. As there was no way of returning his hand underneath hers without drawing attention to the action, Bellamy brought his hands to rest on the table in front of him.

“I have noticed it is not a term you like,” she said, oblivious to his other concerns.

“No, I do not. Besides, Octavia had joined the council while I was gone and made great strides in her role. Between her and Marcus, I didn’t think I was needed particularly. Arkadia presented a new opportunity for me—somewhere I could become someone different. I thought it was in my best interest to take it.”

“But surely Princess Octavia must have wanted you to stay by her side,” Clarke said. 

“It is what had always been planned, but...once she became a teenager we started to fight a lot. She felt I was too protective of her given she would one day be Queen. For all that I might have liked to have changed about the war, one thing it did give me was the clarity that our relationship fared better when there was a little distance between us.” 

Clarke looked thoughtful at these words before she eventually nodded. She brightened before adding, “Well, I must admit that I am glad her loss has been my gain.” Bellamy glanced away in embarrassment but had not replied before she added, “And you know you can visit Tondisi whenever you like. If ever you feel like you are missing them too much you must say and we will make arrangements for you to go back.”

“Thank you, Clarke. But I couldn’t think of going anywhere for pleasure before your coronation—we have too much work to do.”

Clarke smiled and returned to her book.

  
  


As much as he tried not to dwell on it, after his confession Bellamy couldn’t help but notice Clarke softening with him when they were alone. Not only did she start to open up more on a personal level when they studied, but they were spending an increased amount of time together outside the library as well. Clarke took him on a tour of the kingdom and asked him to join her and her mother when they had forums to take questions from the people. She even seemed to favour his advice in the forums over her mother’s. Still, as glad as Bellamy was to be involved in these important matters, and for Clarke’s increased regard, their time together in the library remained his favourite part of the day.

He had spent enough time in a palace to have seen how its leaders could show different faces to different people, but it tugged at something deep within his chest to see the masks that Clarke wore.

When they were listening to the people’s questions she looked every bit the future Queen she was so diligently preparing to be, but when they were alone in the library she looked like a young woman who was just trying her best to carry out an impossible task and he wanted to protect her from the huge responsibility she bore. He tried to tell himself that these thoughts were still only in friendship, but he was soon forced to reconsider that after another late session with the knights.

As one of the seniors who normally assisted Miller in training the younger knights had injured his arm, Bellamy had been assisting in the demonstrations all week. Clarke had assured him that he need not worry about missing any of their sessions because of it, but he had been managing his time as best he could so he wouldn’t have to. When they finished particularly late one day, Bellamy felt certain Clarke must have left the library already, but he still made his way there as quickly as he could in the hope of meeting her there. 

He was glad to see the Princess had not left their table but frowned when he realised she was not merely leaning over a book, but had rested her head on the table and fallen asleep. 

Bellamy hesitated as he approached her, not wanting to wake her if she was so tired to have passed out in the library, but at the same time he couldn’t let her rest here. Not only would her neck hurt from sleeping in such an awkward position, but it also wouldn’t do for the princess to be found in such a state. 

He called her name softly at first, then a little louder. He knew very well that one should not shake a princess, but as she was so unresponsive he ultimately had no other choice and shook one shoulder as gently as he could until she opened her eyes.

She looked surprised, but it seemed to be more from having fallen asleep than her rude awakening. 

“Bellamy?” she asked, blinking at him. 

_ Had her eyes always been so blue? _ he wondered. Her voice was certainly huskier than usual but he didn’t want to dwell on that. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

She nodded and sat up fully so Bellamy let his hand drop from her shoulder. “I have not slept well the last few nights, it must have caught up to me.” 

Bellamy had not been letting himself think about the fact that they had adjoining bedchambers for some time now, but at her words, an image of Clarke lying in her bed in a nightgown slipped into his mind. He blinked it away and suggested, “Why don’t you return to your chambers and rest?”

“No, I have too much today. I can’t even remember what I’ve been looking at today,” she said, lifting the book in front of her to inspect the cover. 

“There’s no harm in missing one afternoon, Princess. You should try to catch up on some rest.” 

Her lips twisted. “You must be serious. You haven’t called me that for at least a week.”

Bellamy stared as he took her words in. He hadn’t noticed it, but he supposed he had come to think of her more as Clarke than  _ Princess _ . “If that will convince you,” he said, hoping his tone didn’t let on that he was surprised by the realisation.

She smiled lightly and moved to stand. However, she must have been drowsier than she had thought, for she did not rise with her usual grace and Bellamy moved to put an arm around her back to steady her. At the same time, Clarke reached out a hand to steady herself by holding onto the nearest item within reach, which just so happened to be Bellamy’s chest. Their combined actions brought them into the position of something quite like an embrace. 

Clarke’s cheeks coloured and Bellamy felt certain her embarrassment was mirrored in his face. But despite that she did not immediately step away, instead lifting her head to look into his eyes, and Bellamy made no move to change his position either. 

He knew he had been this close to her before—they had to hold hands during part of the wedding ceremony and they had kissed briefly to seal their vows too. But those touches had meant nothing to him; she had been little more than a stranger to him then—worse, perhaps, as he had still slightly resented her at the time. Now, she had become someone he cared about, and feeling the warmth of her back against his palm, her small hand on his chest, stirred him more than he wanted to admit. Then, there was the way she was gazing up at him, her eyes wide and bright. 

_ What did that look mean?  _

He had to know.

“Clarke—“

The moment he said her name the spell between them seemed to break. She stepped back out of his arms and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said hastily, taking another two steps and putting more distance between them than was strictly necessary. “I must be far more tired than I realised.”

He thought that was obvious already given she had fallen asleep in the library, but he didn’t call her on it. Part of him wanted to see her safely to her chambers, but given the charged moment between them, he thought some distance was necessary and let her leave. It seemed she was just as distracted as he was, for after she left and Bellamy realised he had been staring into space for five minutes he noticed Clarke had left all her books behind. He collected them to return to her later, and as he picked up one of the romance novels she still insisted on carrying on top of her studious texts, he was forced to reckon with the realisation that perhaps friendship was not all he wanted from his wife.

  
  


The announcement of the delegation to Tondisi should not have come as a surprise to Clarke. They were to send a large shipment of grain imminently and it had been decided by the council that they would send some advisors as well to discuss other business and share information about the latest whispers coming from Azgeda. 

One of the advisors had been charged with drawing up the list of delegation members the other day, and when Lord Thelonious read the names out at the council meeting Clarke listened with what had become her usual patient expression until he said, “Prince Bellamy,” and her head jerked upwards suddenly.

Clarke soon schooled her face and added her voice to the unanimous vote in favour of the proposed delegation, but her reaction had clearly not gone unnoticed by her mother for Abby took her to one side after they left the meeting, saying that it was a good symbol of unity between the kingdoms if Bellamy was a part of the delegation.

Clarke had bristled at her mother’s explanation—not because she didn’t agree, but at the suggestion her mother thought she didn’t understand that. Of course it was a good idea to have Bellamy as one of their representatives in Tondisi—and not just in a symbolic way, but because his knowledge of the two kingdoms would be helpful if any agreements needed to be made. Clarke had every faith he would be fair to both Tondisi and Arkadia. 

The choice had not been what had shocked her in the meeting—it had been the sudden, unexpected pang in her chest at the thought of him going away. She had immediately reminded herself that it was silly—the delegation was only meant to be gone for ten days, which was hardly any time at all, and there was no danger on the route. And yet as the meeting had continued onto other matters Clarke found herself feeling distracted and a little sad at the prospect of that time without Bellamy.

But as she didn’t know what to make of that feeling herself, she was hardly going to share it with her mother so Clarke had merely demurred before going to her chambers. She was glad that her study session with Bellamy had been in the morning that day instead of the afternoon as they often were, so she had some time before she next had to see him. 

She knew she had grown fond of Bellamy—he could still be a pain in her side sometimes, but usually in a good way, challenging her way of thinking without being condescending or speaking down to her, and his teasing often felt like it broke the tension between them than creating it. They had developed something of a friendship and she felt quite comfortable around him.

But to feel such a sudden disappointment at the prospect of being apart from him was new and worrisome.

It wasn’t as if she was worried he might decide to remain in Tondisi after the visit. For one thing, he couldn’t. He had signed an agreement and she knew he wouldn’t try to go back on that. But more importantly, from what he had revealed to her about his life in Tondisi she did not think he would wish to. No, Clarke’s fears were all for herself at the prospect of a palace without Bellamy in it.

And that was most worrisome of all.

She had other things to be concerned about right now—number one being her forthcoming coronation—and she did not have time to feel confused about a boy.

Well, she corrected herself. She imagined it was a long time since anyone could have thought of Bellamy as a  _ boy _ . But it was one thing to acknowledge the objective appeal of his manly physique, it was quite another to think she might miss him when he would not even be gone for two weeks. 

The sad truth was that she had not noticed how isolated she had become in the palace following Wells’ departure and her father’s death until her recent friendship with Bellamy had brought home the fact that she had become a little lonely. And if she had felt sad because his departure meant that she would be without the one person in the palace she could truly call a friend that would have been one thing, but it was becoming more apparent to her that that wasn’t the only reason she would miss Bellamy. 

Something had changed between them since last week when he had found her asleep in the library. Their study sessions still passed in more or less the same manner that they had before, but Clarke hadn’t been able to help noticing more things about Bellamy that were decidedly unrelated to his knowledge or teaching ability. The way his hands moved in animation and the sharp look in his eyes when he talked about something he found fascinating only recalled to her the strength she had felt in those hands when they had caught her and the intensity of his gaze.

Clarke had made every effort not to wonder what he had been about to say before she had moved out of his embrace, but it did not help her peace of mind that he had also become more considering of her in other ways—always looking to her plate at mealtimes to see that she ate well, and calling to her at night from his chambers to ensure she was going to bed.

The adjoining doors between their chambers had stayed firmly shut though, which was ultimately what made Clarke certain that he only cared for her out of friendship. He had been the one to turn her down on their wedding night, after all, and aside from that one momentary look in his eyes hadn’t shown any sign since that he might want her.

By the time she saw him at dinner, he had already been informed that he would be part of the delegation and showed no signs that the news had rattled him as it had her. He didn’t seem especially eager to be going back, which she supposed was a slight relief, but neither did he seem at all disappointed to be leaving. Even once they were alone the following day for their next study session he acted perfectly normally, and so Clarke modelled her behaviour on his as the week went on, pretending that she was not keeping a mental count of the days until he left.

They did not mention the trip again while in the library until the day before he was leaving when Bellamy asked her for her thoughts on the advisors joining him, as well as if she had any advice. She did not think he needed it—Clarke had certainly never been part of such a delegation to another kingdom—but she was gratified that he valued her opinion anyway. 

When they sat down to dinner that evening, Clarke felt herself wanting to linger instead of saying goodnight, but since her mother and Thelonious were engaged in conversation and did not seem about to retire anytime soon, she asked Bellamy to join her for a walk in the gardens. 

It wasn’t something they had ever done before, but Bellamy only showed the briefest hint of surprise before he accepted. They were quiet as they walked through the halls to the area of the gardens she liked to walk in when she had time; perhaps Bellamy didn’t know what to make of her unusual invitation and Clake didn’t know what she planned to say to him either. 

They were not alone when they entered the garden, but Clarke smiled at Monty when he looked up from pruning the flowers. He had grown up in the palace as his parents both worked there and, being a similar age to Clarke, they had spent a lot of time together as children before the differences in their stations had started to separate them. She still liked him though, and he returned her warm greeting before sharing one with Bellamy as well. 

She had not realised Bellamy was acquainted with Monty, so when he left them shortly—clearly unfinished with his work but deciding to make himself scarce regardless—Clarke asked, “When did you meet Monty?” 

“He was at one of Jasper’s parties.”

Clarke laughed, recalling days past at the jester’s legendary parties. “Of course. It has been some time since I went to one, but I always enjoyed them.”

“You should come,” Bellamy said, but Clarke shook her head.

“My presence always put some people on their guard, even when I was much younger. I am sure no one else would have any fun if they were in the presence of their Queen.”

Bellamy looked grave at the remark, so she smiled at him. “I am too busy for parties anyway.”

“Have you put together a studious set of reading while I am away, Princess?” he asked in a teasing voice, which relieved her.

She should have done really, if for no other reason than to give herself something to think about other than Bellamy being gone, but she had not. She was hardly going to tell Bellamy that though, so she only said, “I shall do my best,” and returned his teasing smile before turning her gaze to the flowers.

Bellamy stood behind her silently for a moment before saying, “You know you shouldn’t tire yourself out with your studies, Clarke. Perhaps you should spend at least one afternoon simply reading a novel as you keep pretending to.”

“What novel would you suggest?” Clarke asked as she moved from the flowers Monty had been pruning to her favourite buds that had a vibrant purple hue.

Bellamy hummed in thought before naming two romances that he was quite fond of. 

There was no teasing in his voice, and yet she distinctly remembered him teasing her on seeing them and the other romances in her collection when she had arrived for their first study session. “Do you mean that? That you really like them?”

“Yes,” he said. “I enjoy reading something light from time to time and I think those are two of the best.”

“Then why did you tease me that day in the library about reading romances?” 

“Because I thought it would annoy you,” he said simply. 

Clarke frowned at him, but she soon laughed. “Yes, I suppose I should have known that. Though you hardly act like a man who has read many romance novels.” 

“Are you implying that you do not feel romanced enough, wife?” he asked. 

Clarke’s gaze turned to him with a sharp look, but his eyes had turned towards the sky, seemingly outwardly nonchalant. “I hardly have time for romance,” she said carefully. “I need to prepare for the throne.” 

“Very true. Indeed, it would be improper for you to be courted now that you are a married woman.” 

“Yes, exactly. I have neither time nor need for romance,” Clarke said. 

He looked at her now, his expression gentle. “Is that why you like to read about them?” 

“Well, I—I suppose when I was a girl I had certain fanciful notions.” 

“Of lovers that would braid your hair with flowers and quote poetry to you underneath the stars?”

Clarke laughed at the memory of the passage he was referencing in one of the novels he had mentioned. “Not quite so fanciful, I assure you. I always found those sections quite over the top.” 

Bellamy only murmured so Clarke turned away to look back at the flowers. A moment later, she heard a snap and, after looking to her side, saw he had broken off one of the violet flowers from its stem. Before she could chastise him, and say that he would have displeased Monty, Bellamy turned towards her with an intense look in her eyes and she thought he was holding it aloft to present to her. 

Shock, surely, led to the catch of breath in her throat, but instead of giving her the flower, his arm reached behind her head.

“That’s a shame,” Bellamy said lightly as he avoided her eyes and slipped the stem of the flower through the twist of her hair. “I am very good at braiding.” 

Clarke felt she had no breath left and stared at him in amazement as he finally looked at her again. It was dark outside, but that was nothing compared to the dark of his eyes, so securely on her face. She stared at him open-mouthed, unable to respond.

“Well. You can let me know if you change your mind,” he said, his fingers trailing through to the bottom of her hair. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

And then, as if he had not shaken her world, he left her.

  
  


Bellamy wasn’t quite sure what had come over him in the garden. Although he had finally acknowledged his attraction to Clarke, he had not planned to act on it—but she had looked so lovely in the moonlight that evening, and there had been something a little sad about her acceptance of a life without romance for she was too young to be so convinced that it would not be a part of her life. 

The fact that he only hinted at his feelings the night before he was due to leave for almost a fortnight was perhaps somewhat cowardly, but the look in his eyes convinced him it was probably well-timed. She had clearly not been unaffected by him, but there was enough shock there that he felt Clarke would need the time to think about what he said and how she felt about him.

Returning to Tondisi and undertaking his first significant duty since he had married Clarke at least gave him a distraction from thinking about her. He was happy to see Octavia and Marcus again, but he soon realised that was the extent of his remaining close relationships in his old home. There were people he liked well enough, but he could tell they would not be lasting friendships and he felt no disappointment when the time came to leave—only anticipation at the thought of seeing Clarke again.

Would she want to see if they could have a real relationship—a real marriage? Or would she pretend that nothing had been said that night in the garden and act as she always had?

The answer was not immediately forthcoming for it was after nightfall when they arrived and Bellamy only just had enough time to wash and change for dinner. He was gratified that Clarke looked pleased to see him when he entered the hall—and even stood and squeezed his hand in greeting, but this could also be a perfectly platonic greeting.

Not that he could expect any more from her in company. In addition to their usual dining companions, they were also joined by Wells Jaha who had returned from his long stay in Polis that morning, a week earlier than expected. It was unsurprising that aside from a few standard questions to Bellamy about his trip to Tondisi, most of the attention was on Wells who had been gone for far longer than he. Bellamy couldn’t even be jealous because Clarke’s behaviour with Wells only reminded Bellamy of Octavia’s behaviour with him and he was glad for Clarke that her old friend had returned. He quite liked the man already, except that his presence made it that much harder for Bellamy to speak to his wife alone.

He wanted to linger for long enough after dinner to leave at the same time as Clarke, but after Thelonious requested yet another story from his son, one Clarke looked just as eager to hear, Bellamy was forced to admit that he was too exhausted from the long day’s travel to remain and retired to his room.

He knew a day’s delay in their speaking did not necessarily mean she only wanted to keep their relationship friendly, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he changed his clothes and eventually crawled into bed. However, he was struck with a different feeling moments later when there was a knock on the adjoining door between his and Clarke’s chambers.

“Bellamy?” her voice sounded softly from behind the door. “Are you awake?”

He scrambled off the bed, part of the sheet falling to the floor in his haste to rise and open the door for her. 

“Clarke,” he said, smiling warmly at her. 

She must have returned from the dining room only a few minutes ago. She was still in her dress but had pulled out the pins in her hair so the blonde curls fell in loose waves around her face.

He only realised his lack of a shirt when he noted the sudden rush of colour to her cheeks.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said shyly.

“That’s alright, I was only just going to bed. Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?” he asked, hopefully.

She nodded sharply. “Yes. I wanted to let you know that from tomorrow I will be taking my mother’s place next to Lord Thelonious at the head of the council meetings.”

“Really?” Bellamy replied. It was not the words he had hoped would leave her lips, but they still made him smile. He was proud of her. “You have been busy while I’ve been away,” he teased before adding, “I am glad. It is about time they gave you your due.”

“Well, I have been talking with my mother and Thelonious about how we make the transition smooth and they both agreed that this was a good place to start.” She paused briefly before continuing, “They also agreed that you and Wells would join us at the meetings starting tomorrow.”

Bellamy stared at her. It wasn’t a surprise to him that Wells had been appointed, not just because he was the son of Lord Thelnoious, but because even after one dinner he could see the man’s intelligence, but that they should so suddenly agree to Bellamy being made a part of the meeting as well was a shock. “Me?” he said, disbelieving.

“Yes. My father said it was important to have people you trust around you, and I want you to be there with me.”

Bellamy felt his chest warm at her statement and ducked his head on a smile. He did not know how to respond and went for a joke, “I can’t believe the advisors allowed it.”

She gave him her most regal look. “I did not pose it as a question,” she said primly.

He chuckled at that. “Thank you. I will be there, of course.”

She nodded but made no move to turn away.

It occurred to Bellamy that this was information she could have easily given him in the morning. “Was there something else?” he asked, feeling hopeful once more.

“I…” She looked down to her feet. “Perhaps I have changed my mind about what you said. About romance,” she added, suddenly looking up at him with an almost defiant expression. “What would you say then?”

Bellamy only took one step forward before Clarke moved to meet him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with just as much haste as he wrapped his around her waist. He had intended for it to be a sweet kiss—wanting to romance her as he had promised—but she was insistent, holding him close to her and barely coming up for air between kisses.

He started to walk them backwards into his bedchamber, not loosening his embrace as she continued to convince him through her kisses that she had missed him just as he had missed her, when Clarke suddenly tilted her head back and said, “Wait.”

Bellamy dropped his arms to his side instantly, realising that in his eagerness he might have gotten carried away. She might have been willing to lie with him out of a notion of duty to consummate the marriage, but he did not wish to hasten her to his bed if she was not truly willing. “My apologies,” he said, panting somewhat as he took a step away from her.

“No, I didn’t mean to stop,” Clarke said, reaching her hand out towards him. “I only meant we should go to my chambers. If you want, that is,” she added, with flushed cheeks when he hesitated.

“I do,” he said eagerly, returning her smile. “Very much.”

Her hand was still outstretched, waiting for his, so he took it, certain that he should never wish to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! 💗  
> This was written for the T100fic4blm initiative, which currently has an anon survey that is open to both those who have submitted prompts and those that haven't: [you can take the survey here](https://t100fic-for-blm.tumblr.com/post/640774282027368448/t100-fic-for-black-lives-matter-initiative).  
> You can find me on tumblr; the post with the moodboard for this fic (kindly made by carrievew) is [here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/640417028072669184/ill-be-out-there-somewhere-bellarke-fanfiction).

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Part 2 will be up next week.  
> The moodboard for this fic is on [ tumblr here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/640416812195069953/ill-be-out-there-somewhere-bellarke-fanfiction).


End file.
